Pantigailu—known to most as Lulu—is a mother of three, holding down the fort while her husband, a police officer, is posted in another district. With him away for months at a time, the weight of the household rests entirely on her shoulders. Her story is not very different from that of many military wives, but it does make her very lonely.
Each day begins before the sun rises. Lulu prepares breakfast, gets the kids ready for school, manages drop-offs, wrestles with chores, fixes meals, checks off grocery lists, helps with homework, and even deals with broken water pipes and school projects. From sunup to sundown, she is needed. But once the noise dies down and the children are asleep, an aching silence fills the house.
That’s the hardest part.
“I miss having someone to share the burden with,” she says quietly. “Someone to talk to at the end of the day, someone to lean on when my strength runs out.”
Some evenings, Lulu would feel as though she was carrying the weight of the world. But in those moments of exhaustion and loneliness, she found herself on her knees—praying. It was the only thing she knew to do, and the only thing that brought her peace.
It was there, in the quiet presence of God, that she discovered something she hadn’t seen before.
“God gave women a very different kind of strength,” she reflects. “It’s not loud or showy. But it holds up the world. And I learned through all of this—we were never meant to do life alone.”
If you’re reading this and feel unseen, overwhelmed, or utterly lonely, Lulu’s story has a simple lesson in it:
“You are not alone either. God sees you. And He will carry you, like He carries me.”
